A.N. Take one second to read please? Lol. Hopefully you did. This chapter was something of a mild pain for me. I looked it over several times, but that's not what was a pain. I've juggled what to do, and I hope this suits you and I hope I dun get flamed for it, like someone said I would. Thank you for reading and all the reviews so far. They've been awesome. :)

Chapter Six

Draco Malfoy held the key to Cornelius Fudge's downfall. He sat there, in his cozy study room, which was black and deep green, with cherry wood furnishings. There were no portraits of people on the wall. Draco rather liked his privacy, rather than a bunch of wizards or witches staring at him with their painted eyes. He revolved twice in the comfortable leather desk chair. Part of him was overwhelmed with glee, while the other part of him, cringed just staring at the photographs. How did he ever accomplish this? Draco wanted to know. Sitting idly upon Draco Malfoy's desk was about twenty snap shots, all very graphic and appalling to say the least. He never thought it possible from the Minister of Magic. It was the reason of Cornelius Fudge's best mate's death, all in the same year.

The reason Helix Hudson was still alive, was because of these particular photos, had been hidden, quite cleverly too. Being a Ravenclaw, it surprised Draco that Fudge didn't find them. Then again, Draco suspected that Fudge severed all ties from his best friend's before having them killed off.

Fudge, of course had hired someone, and was probably half way across the country during the time of the murders and inevitable torture; but that didn't stop Fudge's orders and conspiracy. But, the murders were the least of Draco's thoughts. Unless, he exposed Fudge outright to the whole world, there was no actual evidence. Draco would have to be careful with this information. It was disastrous in the wrong person's hands. He thought about using this, as a way to announce to the world of Lord Voldemort's return, but he couldn't do too much at one time. If he did this, then everyone might believe Harry and Dumbledore was the one blackmailing the Minister, especially since Draco did this for the sole purpose of getting Harry free. However, he would keep them around… just in case.

This was not a sex scandal, like one might think. Fudge and his mates did nothing of the sort. This was positively worse. If this got out into the hands of the world, then a rebellion would start; with Voldemort alive and wrecking havoc, the last thing the world needed was a rebellion. The way it ended last time, if Draco remembered the text's correctly, it had taken wizards almost an age just to form a strained relationship, and even now, it's still very tense. A lot of hate and anger came from this particular's side, from the way they were treated in the past.

Draco would of course, try to keep this hush, hush unless it came down to desperation. Although, he doubted, that it would ever get that far.

The photograph's that caused the lives of men, who were by no means innocent, were all seen torturing a group of goblins. Helix Hudson was only in one or two. Draco suspected that he had the camera most of the time. This was what the photographs were showing Draco. They were drunk, very evident from the whisky bottle in one of the guy's left hand while his wand pointed at a small unsuspecting goblin, it looked quite young. Maybe not a goblin's child age, but definitely not a fully grown goblin like the ones at Gringotts. There were two of them, if Draco assessed it right, and one of them was strung up by their clothing and pinned to the wall. Some of them were more brutal, and one showed a young Cornelius, dusty short old fashioned brown hair, it was very short around the ears and neck. His round youthful face had a drunken glee in it, while his wand was raised, and a bright red beam was shooting a goblin square in the chest.

For one of the first times ever, Draco Malfoy, felt so very bad for another species. He had been taught, not to feel guilty for other people's wrong doings. But, this, this was just out of context. He shuddered, and stared down at them, flipping through images. They were horrific, one had Cornelius and all his friends sitting a battered and bound goblin on their laps and laughing in a drunken state. As if it was a funny thing to do. These were old images, around the 1950's or so.

It was disgusting, but it was a crime that was good enough for a thousand Dementors to devour the pompous bastard. Goblin's were clever creatures. They were brilliant and could easily outwit any wizard who believed to be better, but if there were enough aggressive and powerful wizards, and the timing was right, it wouldn't take too much to overpower one or two of them. Fudge and his friends, must have stumbled upon them by sheer accident - unless - they decided, while being drunk to go hunting, so to say. But, instead of muggles, they hunted anything of creature format. Many purebloods had a habit of believing creatures inferior to them, and while Draco had his beliefs, and was brought up to believe that they were all below him, he was beginning to learn just how - simple minded the notion truly was.

He put the pictures back up on his desk, and leaned back, his eyes flickering to the high ceiling. Just seeing those pictures made Draco's skin crawl, and he began to think about what it would be like in the Dark Lord's services. If he thought, that, was inhuman, he could imagine what he would be forced to do.

He shuddered, and cast his eyes back down onto his disorganized desk, thinking casually about how he would have to really fix this before he crashed for the night. He began gathering the photographs up in one hand, wand clasped tight in his other; with magic all around the manor, no one could detect Draco's magical usage, and so he took advantage of that. He started duplicating each and every photograph until he had several copies of each. He placed them in separate envelopes, before stashing each one in various hidden compartments of his study and his bedroom. Even keeping a set on Cherity, in case it was ever needed. He knew it might not be the wisest of decisions to keep the copies. But, who knew, who would find them?

He doubted Fudge would ever check up on Helix, in fear of something being resurrected. Hell, just Draco mentioning the word, Fudge got him the very answer he needed.

He thought about how to approach Fudge. He shouldn't do it face to face. Malfoy to Fudge. That wouldn't be good for his father's reputation. This would have to be a silent job. A job, where Draco would be unable to boast or exploit his Slytherin qualities of running someone's name so far into the ground that they could scratch against the entrance to Hell itself. He decided that he would not give the picture to Fudge just yet; however, Draco would press on the matter of certain photographs having resurfaced. Draco would give the exact date and the friends involved, just in case anyone was to open the letter, to check for poisons and what-not.

With one last look at the photographs, he pulled out a sheet of parchment, followed by his quill and ink.

00000

When Harry awoke, he felt a hand gently shaking his bare back. He raised his head, and opened his eyes, to see Ron standing there fully dressed. "Come on! Mum wants us awake and downstairs for breakfast."

Harry groaned, with exhaustion, as he laid his head down back onto the pillow. "M'k." murmured the teen groggily. The teen struggled up into a sitting position and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Where'd you get all those new clothes?" asked Ron, as Harry shifted onto his stomach to sift through his trunk.

"Ah, I went through catalogs. I was tired of wearing my cousin's junk."

"Yeah, I don't blame you. Doesn't flatter you." said Ron plopping down on Harry's bed. "I'm glad to see you're not pissed off anymore."

Harry sighed, "No time to be." he said, pulling out clothes, and then sliding off the bed. "Be out in a bit."

Harry was wearing sports clothes, black with a white strip down the side, and a white t-shirt with a black wolf's head, on the back. The name of the brand was in cursive white on the side of Harry's shirt. His hair fell loosely, and he was wearing black and white trainers to match.

When he appeared downstairs with Ron at his side, he quickly made his way to Sirius and Remus, where he was nudged into the seat between them. Ron and Hermione sat opposite of him; everyone was doing their own thing. Ginny was on the floor playing with Crookshanks, Fred and George weren't even in there, Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley was at work.

Sirius passed Harry the pancakes and then the maple syrup, as Remus handed him a basket of sausages. There was mild chatter, through out the morning meal.

"I believe we need to tackle the drawing room. There are doxies all over the tapestries. What that house-elf has done all these years, I am not sure."

Hermione looked disapproving while Sirius scowled, "The damn thing has been listening to a bloody portrait all these ears." he said, wolfing down a piece of sausage. "Wish I could stick him in the portrait."

Harry had met Kreacher and boy what a piece of work he was. A nasty little guy with a bullfrog voice. He was nothing like Dobby, and the way he talked about Sirius, made him sick. He had never seen a house-elf act in such a way.

"Or on the wall." murmured Ron, when Hermione kicked him under the table. The teen yelped, and glared at her.

"Nah, that's his life long dream. Why give him what he wants?" asked Sirius, casually.

"Why not free him?" asked Harry.

Sirius shook his head, "He knows too much."

"Can't you - modify his memory?" suggested Hermione. "I mean - modify it and let him go?"

"Memory charms work differently on creatures, Hermione." said Sirius. "Believe me, I looked it up."

"Enough about that wretched elf!" sniffed Mrs. Weasley. "We have work to do, and it won't get done, talking about that thing."

Hermione looked livid, "It's an elf! A poor little elf." she defended.

"Poor my arse." scowled Sirius. "Don't let that elf fool you, Hermione! He knows exactly what is going on, he's just waiting, Hermione. Not every house-elf or creature is as kind as their natural species. He grew up with my family, who were dark and very anti-muggle. He turned out just as nasty as them."

"He's brainwashed!"

"Correct, he is brainwashed, and he will never come out of it. He's too old, too set in his ways. He's dangerous."

"He's an elf!" squeaked Hermione.

"Enough, Hermione," said Ron, annoyed. "Enough chatter about house elves."

"Precisely, we have a drawing room waiting for us, chop chop!" Ordered Mrs. Weasley, clapping her hands twice.

Hermione scowled and sulked, the whole way up to the drawing room.

Fred and George met them upstairs, with masks, gloves and other things that they were to wrap around their faces, shielding all but their eyes. There were doxy spray bottles in a grey bucket. There was a desk in the corner rattling something fierce;

Strong hands came up and squeezed Harry's shoulder, affectionately. It was Sirius; he was standing just behind him.

"Think that's a Boggart." he told his godson. "Not entirely sure, as soon as Moody gets back, I believe, he'll be having a look at it, with his eye."

"Oh." said Harry with mild surprise.

"Who knows what kind of malevolent stuff has been crawling around this place."

"How long has it been vacant?" asked Harry, purposely leaning into his godfather.

Sirius shrugged, "Let's see - my mother died just shortly after my little brother, and my father died about two years before that. I would say about fifteen years or so?"

"Wow. That's quite a long time." said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling through and demanded everyone gather around the tapestries. Harry smiled, at Sirius and regretfully stepped away from his godfather, and up to the tapestry where black stuff was caked up and down the purple tapestries.

A few hours later, Harry was between Fred and George who was piling doxies into their pockets, that Mrs. Weasley insisted that sandwiches would be ready downstairs. Harry walked over, to where Sirius was sitting and staring at a dark plum coloured tapestry, it had been the only curtain in the room that was doxy free and in perfect condition. Harry shifted onto the man's knee; Sirius' hands raised and they touched his waist, and rubbed gently against the small teen's sides. "I hate being back here." He spoke softly, as Ron and Hermione took the hint to actually leave them alone. "I can't stand it. I always ran to your fathers, during summer holiday. I was the white sheep in the family full of black sheep." Harry slipped further from Sirius' knee, pressing his back against the man's chest. He wasn't as bony as he remembered. He was shaven and his hair was long and black to his shoulders. It was thick, kind of like Harry's. He looked almost normal, except for the vacant look in his grey eyes. Sirius had a bit of curl at the ends of his hair. Harry took the man's hands into his; Sirius smiled fondly and hugged against him and pressed his chin to Harry's shoulder. "Your grandparents were good about letting me stick around."

"Kind of like me and the Weasleys."

"Yeah, over there- you see that?"

"Yeah."

"It's got the family tree on it. All kinds of people are on it you may recognize. The Malfoy Family, are also on it, Tonks, she's my second cousin. My cousin Andromeda married a muggleborn man, named Ted Tonks. I think she's been zapped off the list, along with myself- my Uncle Alphard, he was a pretty good guy. He left me a bit of money when he died. I was able to get on without my parents until I was old enough to move out. When your mom and dad married, we all four moved in together. Remus, James, Lily, and I. Lily was pregnant with you, she was about three months pregnant when she got married to James. She had no idea, until she started throwing up." Harry smiled, and listened. "Oh, your father was so happy, and I couldn't have been happier, when James declared me as the godfather."

This was really nice, but there was a question bothering Harry, "Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"How could you ever suspect Remus?"

Sirius' eyes lowered and he heaved a gentle sigh, "At the time - there was so many people pumping things into our heads."

"But, why him? Of all the people?"

"Cause he was smarter than Peter Pettigrew. No one ever figured Peter would be brave enough to side with Voldemort."

"But, this is Remus we're talking about." stressed Harry, softly.

"I know, to you it sounds ludicrous and to Lily it did as well. Lily was positively furious at the assumption, but she was overruled, by the Order."

"The order is always right," said Harry sarcastically. "Keeping me locked up isn't right, believing you a murderer wasn't right - and yet they believed it."

"It's so much easier to put blame on others, than yourself. The truth is worse than lies at the time, because it hits so close to home. It knocks against ones ego, making them look like and sound like a raving lunatic."

"Did you really, truly, honestly, believe that Remus was the spy?"

"We didn't know what to believe, Harry." said Sirius sadly.

Harry sighed, and touched his godfather's hands, which were bigger than his own. "I'm not accusing, I'm just wondering. I'm trying to get a sense - of then."

"I know." said Sirius, hugging him close. "I know that Harry." He kissed his godson on the cheek. "I'm glad we're able to be here, and talk together."

"Me too." said Harry quietly. "If I get expelled-"

"You won't be."

"But, if I do. Can I come back here and live with you?"

"You'd really want to live here?"

"Anywhere is better than the Dursleys."

"It must be bad there… to choose this over that."

"With you here, it's not bad." He said, in the softest voice he could muster. Harry's body relaxed greatly.

Sirius smiled, and hugged closely. "I love you kid."

Harry grinned, feeling his heart warm up even more than it had before, "You better," He declared, as Sirius chuckled. "Cause I love you too."

000

Harry finished writing his letter back to Draco, and had it sent off in the middle of the night by Hedwig. He then sank down next to his godfather and Remus, and he drank a glass of Firewhisky while listening to them talk about their time at school. Both, telling him things, he enjoyed hearing.

The days that lead up to Harry's trial was beginning to wear thin. The teen was more and more nervous, even though everyone including Draco had told him it was going to be alright. He thought about it, life as a muggle once again. He couldn't think of a more depressing matter than being locked up at the Dursley's until he was old enough to leave on his own. He shuddered violently at the mere thought of it. Anxiety had taken a hold of his body, and he found himself more restless in the dark manor than his godfather Sirius.

It was just a few short days, before the trial, and it was early morning, when Harry stifled a yawn and staggered down the steps, still in pyjamas. He hadn't been sleeping properly at all. The dreams of winding corridors and more locked doors invaded him, and he was convinced it had something to do with being held prisoner. He passed Kreacher, who croaked and scratched at his hind-end. Harry just scrunched his nose and walked on passed, into the light of the kitchen.

"HARRY!!!!" Mrs. Weasley was up and she ran to Harry, handing him a bright purple letter with a gold seal. "It's the Ministry! Hurry, open it!"

Harry blinked, trying to understand just, what the Weasley Matron was telling him. He saw the letter, he saw the purple colour and the gold seal, but he still couldn't comprehend. Everyone was staring at him, expectantly. "Calm down Molly! Let him get a hold of himself." stated Sirius, curling his arm around his godson, pulling the boy down onto his knee.

Harry just fell back against his godfather, as the man took the letter, and held it out in front of him. After a moment, he swallowed, and shakily took the letter. Slowly, he ripped the seal and pulled out a thick sheet of parchment.

Dear Harry J. Potter,

The Ministry of Magic, hereby dismiss all charges in which have been bestowed upon your being. No expulsion or action will be taken against you, for your use of the Patronus Charm on August 2nd, 1995 in the muggle alley of Magnolia Crescent, in the presence of a muggle. You are hereby granted permission to continue your education at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, beginning September 1st. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you, and hope that you enjoy the rest of your summer holiday.

Thank you,

Sincerely Yours,
Ministry of Magic

Sirius did a loud, whoop, standing with Harry in his arms. He spun around, and called out, "Hell yeah! They dropped the charges!"

The teen being moved around like a rag doll barely registered the fact that people began to hug him, and congratulate him. Harry was too stunned. How did this happen? He asked himself, as Hermione squealed and grabbed him around the neck, talking about how; she knew it was unjustified in the first place.

Draco, thought Harry. It was him, which got him off. He looked down at the letter, why were they congratulating him? He did nothing, but ignore Draco's word on going outside and now, Draco was fixing the mess he was slung into. He swallowed, and when he was finally put down by Fred, he collapsed back in Sirius' lap.

"Harry? What's wrong?" asked Hermione, with concern. "Aren't you happy?"

Harry looked up from his distant glance, "Oh, yeah, I was just thinking." He gave them as big of a smile as he could. "I'm ecstatic. When can we go to Diagon Alley?" But, inside, he felt slight shame, over the fact that Draco had to bail him out. He collapsed back down into Sirius' lap, who was holding him tightly, and laughing, his grey eyes with a glitter that had never been seen.

As Mrs. Weasley started to pull out the best of everything for a wonderful breakfast, and Hermione and Ron were occupied, Remus leaned over, wrapping his arm around Harry's back. "Hey, pup?" Harry looked over at the kind werewolf, whose amber eyes glittered, "You feel guilty don't you?"

Sirius hearing this leaned up, "Whatever for?"

"He got me off." Whispered Harry. "I know he did. He kept writing me, and telling me not to worry about it, that he had it covered. He didn't have to do this, after I recklessly yelled at him and - ran out on him."

Remus rubbed Harry's back, "Don't think like that, Harry. He would not have wanted you too-" He whispered.

"Yeah, if he really did have something to do with this, it's obvious, he understands and cares."

Harry nodded, "I just - feel shameful. I didn't listen, like the silly Gryffindor that I am…" He said, dryly.

Remus and Sirius opened their mouths to protest when Mrs. Weasley, came bustling over, insisting that Harry needed to put on a few pounds.

Thus, meaning their conversation ended.